


cavendish heart

by frostyoats



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Post-Canon, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-08 00:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17375846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostyoats/pseuds/frostyoats
Summary: Seven years after the events of the series, Diana is head of house, and vying for a place in The Elite Witches and Wizards in order to restore greatness to the Cavendish name. Things are looking hopeful for Diana, but that all changes when she gets a phone call from her old classmate and ex-lover Akko Kagari: Ursula is terribly ill, Croix is still in prison, and Diana is the only person she knows who might be able to help save her. Diana isn’t one to turn away a person in need, especially Akko, but the two have problems of their own to address, and Diana is afraid of losing her standing with The Elite… will they be able to find a cure for Ursula before it’s too late?





	1. Chapter 1

Diana Cavendish was far from home.

She guided her broom through the dark January sky, above the forest of a dying wilderness where something lay wicked. This wickedness— as she had learned from her mission debriefing— was in fact a Wendigo. You see, for all her years, such a creature was merely the stuff of fables and folklore. But the sighting of a ghastly, towering monster bearing the likeness of a dead elk in a northwestern Ontario village had proved this wrong, and it was up to her and The Elite Witches to find it, eliminate it, and prevent it from doing any harm by tearing it apart.

She brought her trench coat closer to herself, and gripped a gloved hand tighter around the broom handle. Before her was only night. A cerulean night, permeated only by the blades of a full moon, and the branches of vein-like trees that stretched into the endless blue. The frost bit at her nose, and her breaths came out in cloud-like puffs against the cold, but she stayed ever vigilant. Lives were at stake here.

They had been searching for nearly an hour now. Albert, head of the Elite, had gone west, and Red of the Wild Hunt had gone east, with no sign of the Wendigo yet.

That is, until she heard the snapping of twigs and crunching snow somewhere along the forest floor, and spotted a hunching figure darting aimlessly through a mangled thicket. She pressed two cold fingers to the hilt of her wand to send out an alert signal to the other two and descended. In sight, was her target…

No. _Targets_. All of a sudden, the figure had begun to make copies of itself, and soon, there were two of them, then four, then twelve, all running about in different directions. Diana had a trained eye and a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of the magic arts, and knew purely from instinct that these were in fact illusions. The damned thing knew it had been spotted, and knew it was being followed. It had been throwing her off its path all along. 

She halted and watched the frenzy below. Which was the original copy? And where would it be headed? The copies were running this way and that, stumbling, antlers cutting scars into trees, as if intoxicated. Diana knew full well that there was only one thing that intoxicated a Wendigo: its appetite for human flesh. Which meant only one thing. 

She angled herself higher, and flew towards the outskirts of the village as fast as her broom would take her. She leaned forwards, body parallel to her broom, and braced herself from the frigid winds. Soon, she spotted smoke billowing out from a cabin below, a squat little thing made from bricks and stone, and accelerated towards it, no doubt the Wendigo’s destination. The lights were on. She landed a few metres away, boots sinking in the thick blanket of snow, and began conjuring a protective barrier around it. She sent out another telepathic signal.

_Meet me at my location,_ she said to the others, _It’ll be here any minute._

There was no sound in the grove save for the beating of her own heart. Just then, she heard knuckles tapping against glass, and saw a little boy peering outside the cabin window in curiosity. She motioned for him to go, heart beating wildly. She looked behind her, saw nothing but darkness, and looked back to the boy, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. The barrier was taking far too long; she was putting herself in danger, but she needed to keep him safe. She mouthed silently,  _Hide_. And then, there was a maddening shriek.

The Wendigo leapt up from behind her, saliva dripping from its rotted yellow fangs, and struck. Diana rolled out of the way, its claws stabbing into the snow beside her head. Its gaunt, human-like form towered above her, hungry and emaciated, so evil and horrific most could hardly fathom it. It struck again, and Diana leapt to the side. The Wendigo struck and struck again, and Diana could do nothing but dodge its attacks. The beast had few weaknesses, and she was waiting for her chance to strike; damaging it incessantly would do nothing but enrage it.

She was pushed further and further back, closer and closer to the cabin. She needed the perfect opportunity to strike, she needed—

“Aureum Funem!” she heard two voices cry in tandem. Behind her was Red, who had cast forth a shimmering golden rope, and thrown it around an antler, and on the other side of the beast was Albert, who had done the same with the other antler. 

It gave out a deafening scream as they pulled, blood and spit spewing from its maw, and stumbled forwards, jaws wide and oozing and ready to sink dagger-like teeth into Diana skull, but she ducked away just in time.

“Pull!” said Red, and it was a game of tug of war, the two men struggling to tear the Wendigo apart. It thrashed its head in a frenzy, tumbling even further forwards, ramming itself through the barrier Diana had erected and into the cabin window, sending bits of glass bursting around them. The men fell back, unable to withstand the beast's fury, and prepared for the worst …

...when Diana rushed in with a silver stake, driving it into the icy heart of the beast. Silver— its one other weakness. She drove it deeper and deeper, and the Wendigo shrieked and shrieked until flesh and bone and dark matter twisted and tore apart, and its body pulsed once before it burst into greyish ash. Its heart lay bleeding in the snow, and Diana drove the stake into it once more before it could reign its terror over the village again.

Huffing with exhaustion, the three watched the heart beat one last time, before it too evaporated into ash.

When it was over, Red stuck his lance into the ground, snow puffing up to his knees. “Well,” he said. “I reckon that’s a mission complete.”

“No,” said Diana, deactivating what remained of the barrier, rushing to the cabin door, and unlocking it with a swath of magic. “The boy.”

Inside, it was empty. There were bits of glass littering the rug in front of the fireplace, drops of black Wendigo-blood dotting the hardwood floor, and a lamp that had been knocked over in the skirmish, but there were no signs of the boy or his family.

She stepped further into the house and into a dimly lit corridor, where she was met with a locked door covered in space-themed stickers and a sign written on torn notebook paper that said _KEEP OUT_ in childish writing. She knocked three times, as soft and gentle as she could. 

“It’s safe,” she said. “You can come out now.”

She waited a few beats before the knob fidgeted and the door creaked open to reveal the little boy whose face had filled with fear.

“It’s gone?” he asked.

“It’s gone,” she said, kneeling to his level and offering him the warmest smile she could muster, and that same fear had flushed itself out of his features. “You needn’t be afraid. Are you hurt?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I hid.”

She heard a commotion at the front door, and a man and a woman, presumably the boy’s parents, came barreling into the hall.

“Oh, my boy,” cried his mother as she ran over to scoop him up, just as his father cried, “Not the window!”

_What wonderful priorities_ , thought Diana, rolling her eyes.

“Sosomme Tiextrilla,” she said with a flick of her wand, and the window rewound itself back to its original state, as if nothing had ever so much as touched it.

“Thank-you, thank-you, _thank-you_ ,” the mother sobbed, stroking his hair, and there was a watery glint in her eye that said she was truly grateful.

Diana, ever calm and collected, simply tipped the brim of her hat in acknowledgement.

And _that_ was a mission completed.

————

Joining the Elite Witches and Wizards was all Diana could ever hope for. The Elite were a group of witches and wizards who hailed from prominent witching families all over the globe, and had proven themselves worthy of this honour. They worked closely with the Magic Government as well as The Witch/Wizard Protection Agency, otherwise known as the WPA, and were granted special privileges and access to restricted resources and connections. But more importantly, they and their families were given a name in the modern witching world— something the Cavendishes had only had in the days of old, before Daryl had assumed head of house and tarnished their reputation. Something that Diana would bring back to them.

To become a part of this group, mere hearsay of great deeds was not enough. Prospective members were put to the test in a variety of missions: eliminating dark creatures (as per Diana'a latest mission), restoring ancient artifacts, healing the sick and injured, among other things. The more action-packed missions were not exactly Diana’s favourite; inflicting harm, drawing blood— these things made her squeamish, even if they were for a greater good. She was a healer, first and foremost. But she would do anything to become a part of The Elite.

Her dear mother Bernadette had said on her deathbed after all— “ _You will become the most exceptional head of house this family has ever seen, Diana. I know you will do great things._ ”

And that was exactly what Diana wished to do.

————

“Your work out there was most excellent,” said Albert, the light above them reflecting off his glasses, turning them into little white rectangles. He had short hair (and a receding hairline, if Diana were honest), broad shoulders, and stood at average height for a man his age (though Diana couldn't tell for sure if this statistic was true, not when she didn’t pay any attention _whatsoever_ to the male physique.)

They were in his office in London, where Diana met with him after missions to discuss the progress she had made during her final evaluation period. This period was heavily scrutinized— she was to be available on-call at all times, and failure to participate in a mission she was called in for would result in a strike. She was allowed three strikes before she would be removed from the program and forbidden from re-entering. So far, she had a perfect record, and if her success so far was anything to go by, it would be staying that way to the very end.

Diana simply sniffled and kept a stony face; she couldn’t let him know she was internally beaming with pride. It was unbecoming. 

“First,” he began, “I want to commend you on being able to see past the Wendigo’s illusions, outsmarting it by anticipating its arrival at the cabin, and having the expertise to know silver was its weakness. More importantly though, I want to praise you for keeping the health and safety of the victims at the front of your mind, taking the time to cast a protective barrier even though it put you in danger. Though no one was harmed, you showed great compassion in assuring the residents of the cabin that they were no longer in danger. You’ve proven yourself time and time again a skillful witch. I hope you continue to keep this up. I have a feeling you’ll be joining our ranks with no trouble at all.”

Diana allowed herself a small smile.

“Meeting adjourned,” said Albert, but had one last thing to tell her before she could turn to leave. “Oh, and Diana. I nearly forgot.”

He reached under his desk, pulling out a white paper box roughly the size of his head. He set it on the table and flipped the lid open.

“The family had a cake delivery arranged for you.”

Inside was a round pink cake, with yellow sprinkles all around the sides of its face and bits of frosting stuck to the edges of the box. Square in the middle of the cake was white cursive icing that read, _Thank-you_ , and then in smaller letters underneath that, _for fixing my window_.

Diana laughed, the sheer ridiculousness of the message sending the floodgates open, and the pride Diana had been trying to hide came seeping out in the form of a big, happy smile.

She took the leyline home that night in a better mood than she had been in in a long while. She would make a name for the Cavendish family again. She would achieve greatness. Because out here, she was Elite Witch in the making, head of house, saviour of the world, reviver of magic Diana Cavendish. And at home she was…

————

“Little miss mopey,” said Daryl, leaning against the doorframe with a quirked brow and a sly smile.

Diana was lying across the chesterfield in front of the fireplace as if she was practicing for the grave, and on the floor next to her was an empty glass of wine. On the TV— an old, boxy one that still had rabbit-ear antenna (the intersection of magic and technology was greater than it had ever been in recent years, and Diana knew she would have to muck it up and get used to it, and so purchased something a little old-fashioned that she would get used to much faster)— was a DVD recording of Wandering Atsuko’s show in Yokohama while on tour in Japan. Yes, _that_ Atsuko. Atsuko “Akko” Kagari.

When they had first met Akko seven years ago, she was a clumsy, skinny little girl without much to show for except for a somewhat (read: very) annoying personality and a knack for getting into a whole lot of trouble. Now though, she had a trained, athletic body, and had a masterful prowess with performance magic, not to mention a way of ensnaring crowds with her charm until they were completely and utterly under her spell. It was clear to the both of them: she was _brilliant_.

“Oh, look at you,” said Daryl, watching Akko pirouette across the screen in a flash of sparks and wisps, and then switched her gaze to the very sorry state of her niece. “You’re torturing yourself.”

“‘Tis not torture,” said Diana, drunk off her ass. “‘Tis a warm reminder.”

“There is nothing ‘warm’ about a bad breakup. It’s been nearly a year. You need to move on. And— for goodness sake, turn that drivel off,” she said, stomping over to grab the remote from the coffee table and switching the telly off. She looked toward the fireplace, where the Christmas tree was still standing, ornaments and tinsel and all. “And you _still_ haven’t taken that bloody thing down.”

Daryl began to pluck the ornaments off the tree but was met with the sound of a very whiny Diana.

“Nooo,” she said. “Leave it, auntie. It makes me feel festive.”

“Festive?” scoffed Daryl. “You look like you’re at death’s door. Have you eaten at all?”

“Cake,” said Diana.

“What?”

“Cake. I’ve had cake.”

Daryl scoffed again. She was good at that. “Has Anna not been preparing your meals?”

“I’ve asked her not to,” said whiny drunk Diana. “I’m twenty-three bloody years old, I could do with some autonomy in the very house that I happen to be head of.”

“Autonomy? Diana, you’re plastered.”

“I’m meditating.”

Daryl sighed, forfeiting the tree to shake her niece by the arm. “Come on, let’s get you a nice glass of water and get you to bed, shall we? Up, up we go. You’ll get over her eventually. Come on. I know you will. ‘Cos you’re a bloody Cavendish. We get over all the awful, horrible things that happen to us. It’s what we do.”

————

Diana, in fact, did not. It was hard when everything was a reminder of Akko. They had been dating for five long years, and then Diana had driven everything to shit, and now she was miserable. She thought of Akko’s smile every night before bed, that gorgeous dimpled smile, the beautiful red eyes that would scrunch up into crescent moons whenever she was full of an infectious happiness. Her voice, her laughter— there wasn’t a moment where Diana didn’t hear it somewhere in the back of her head, soothing yet haunting. She wanted to move on.

But she couldn’t.

When she rummaged around her lavatory drawer, Akko’s old _Hello Kitty_ band-aids would be there in the bottom corner staring back at her. When she smelled anything remotely citrus, she was reminded of the shampoo she used. When she opened the kitchen cupboard to make a cup of tea, she was met with the box of Akko’s favourite instant Hong Kong milk tea mix that she had left behind.

She couldn’t even make herself a _cup of tea._

And so, Diana would resort to moping. Roaming the mansion halls, lying around the many couches and beds, staring at the tapestries. Sometimes this involved alcohol, sometimes it did not. Though usually, it did. It was lonely. It was _extremely_ lonely, and all her lonely years spent being an orphan could not have prepared her for the loneliness she would feel living a life without Akko. _Nothing_ could have.

So she continued to mope. And when Diana moped, she did stupid things. 

On one of Diana’s mopey nights, she had found herself in bed wearing a bathrobe, a gravure magazine in hand— yes, the ones with the Japanese swimsuit models, which Diana was loathe to admit; as ridiculous as she felt, she had her needs. However, this feeling of ridiculousness eventually triumphed, and she shoved the magazine away in her bedside drawer, and turned to her imagination. But she was never very imaginative. Instead, her mind began replaying past escapades she had had with Akko when they were together, when Akko had pushed her up against the wall of her childhood bedroom, when Akko had completely and thoroughly done her in Lukic’s lecture hall after curfew, and she perished the thoughts. She got up, marched to her desk, and opened the computer that was sitting atop of it.

Diana Cavendish, twenty-three years old, was going to indulge in the wonders of internet pornography for the very first time in her life.

She opened the Google. Yes,  _that_ Google. You know the one. And she watched the cursor blink, blink, blink. She knew what that meant. It was prompting her to type something into the search engine. She thought very hard, as if this was the grandest decision she would ever make. How did one go about procuring the internet pornographies?

_Pretty women having sex_ , she typed, albeit very slowly and very shyly.

The links, as they were called, began to appear. The topmost link, she recalled reading, was usually the most relevant. And so she clicked on it, but she was suddenly bombarded with a barrage of obscene pop-ups, and her laptop speakers began blaring, “ _MEET JAPANESE HOTTIES WITH BIG WET PUSSIES IN YOUR AREA_ ,” and she stabbed through the computer screen with her wand, effectively destroying it.

It knew.

Anna’s voice echoed down the hall: “Is everything all right in there?” to which Diana replied very quickly, “Yes-everything-is-very-much-okay-in-here-thank-you-for-asking.”

That night, Diana drank half a bottle of wine, and was later found lying out in the snow, playing with a stray cat she’d named Rosie while she listened to _The End of The World_ on a Walkman. When the song began to irritate her ( _“Don't they know it's the end of the world, 'Cause you don't love me anymore?”_ ), the Walkman too was soon destroyed.

————

There were only two things these days that made Diana happy: one, her work with The Elite, and two, her conversations with Beatrix’s spirit. As head of house, she could speak with her ancestor during the occurrence of just about every celestial event, and these conversations, although mostly one-sided (Beatrix was decidedly quiet; Diana chalked it up to some ‘forbidden wisdoms’), reassured her.

And so, Diana sat cross-legged before her, like she did every night that she could, resembling a child eager to hear bedtime stories. Beatrix’s form was a piercing blue, ghastly and see-through, a reminder of her ancient yet undisturbed presence; she not only stood for Diana’s heritage, but her late mother’s legacy. There was nothing Diana cherished more.

“You are on the path to greatness,” Beatrix had said to her that night. She offered nothing more, but for Diana, it was enough.

“I will bring dignity back to the Cavendish name,” she said. “I won’t disappoint you. I won’t.”

————

Many days later, Diana was writing in her study, glasses perched across her nose, pen hurriedly scratching against parchment. She had been working in magic healthcare ever since she had graduated from Luna Nova, but the Elite had been demanding of her time, and so she went about a regular job by way of writing research papers. It relaxed her, in that nerdy Diana Cavendish way. She was finally getting used to this new life. She was calm...

...And then the calmness was broken by an incessant ringing. Beside her writing tools was the telephone she had installed at Anna’s behest. She already had a laptop (destroyed), Walkman (also destroyed), a cell phone and telly (not yet destroyed), but she insisted Diana get with the times.

The ringing continued. She was fed up. So she answered the call.

And that’s when her life changed.

“Hello?” said the voice. “Hello? Diana?”

But Diana didn’t answer. _Couldn’t_ answer. Because her heart was beating so, _so_ fast and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking and she couldn’t tell if she was hyperventilating or if she had stopped breathing. The world seemed to stop and start anew all at once, as if a great wind had taken her and dropped her where she needed to be the most.

It was Akko. Akko with the sweet voice like honeyed pecans, Akko with the cute little accent she was slightly ashamed of but only made her all the more attractive in Diana’s eyes.

Akko, the woman she loved, and who once loved her back.

Diana mustered the strength to say something. Anything. And as if it were the most powerful word in all the languages in the world, she had simply said her name.

“Akko,” she said, and although the word was powerful, her voice was weak, pained.

“Diana,” she said back, and there it was again. That feeling of affection, that shard of cupid’s arrow that had shot its way into Diana’s chest and lodged itself in her heart when she fell in love with Akko, and had never left. It  _hurt._

“Hey,” Akko said. “Diana. I, um. Oh boy I should have thought this through huh? Um… Hey. Shoot, I already said that. Well, first thing’s first, it’s been a while?”

Diana laughed, and felt a rush of relief— the anger that Akko's voice had drowned itself in the very last conversation they had was absent, and was replaced by that unmistakable, nectarous quality. And it was just like Akko, her Akko, to ramble. "It has," she said.

Akko continued, after what Diana swore was a gasp. “Wow. It’s uh, it’s great to hear you after all this time." She paused, and the silence was comforting in a way. Like nothing had ever come between them. Like things were back to the way they were. "U-Uh, right, look, I want to be saying something more positive, but something really bad happened.”

That comfort had vanished. Was Akko okay, was she—

“It’s Ursula,” blurted Akko, before Diana could voice her fears. “She’s not doing too good. The Wagandea curse, it’s not just eating away at her magic, it’s eating away at her soul too. She’s… she might be dying. And Croix, she said she would find a cure but she’s still in prison and I don’t know anyone else who could save her but you and God, you know how much she means to me. She’s like a mother to me. So please, Diana, I need to know… can you help her?”

Diana said nothing at first. Even though she had received grim news like this twice before in her life, as a child at that, it had still taken her a moment to fully grasp what Akko had said. Ursula was dying. Ursula needed her. _Akko_ needed her. 

"Diana?" Akko said again when the line had gone quiet for too long. 

Her heart pounded even harder than it had before, though for an entirely different reason. She looked down at the paper she was working on, and then to the laminated contract she had signed for the Elite Witches at the end of her desk. She thought for a moment longer, and then reached an ultimatum. This time, she would make sure she showed Akko she meant the world to her and more. This time, she would make things right.

“I’ll help you,” said Diana. But nothing could mask the uncertainty in her voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for tuning into the first chapter :^D I dont like OC’s in fic, so Albert is this guy (https://bit.ly/2ADHo1Y), and Red is this guy (https://bit.ly/2FqWriV) in the, well, red. So yeah, youve seen em before. :p Hope you enjoyed and see u next time! Take care.
> 
> Also, the version of the end of the world diana is listening to is definitely the one by sharon van etten! (https://bit.ly/2mDmF99)


	2. Chapter 2

The plan, according to Akko, was that they were to meet up outside Luna Nova the next morning, see how Ursula was doing, and then figure things out from there. By all accounts, it was a very Akko plan. If Diana had any say in the matter she would have gone for something a bit more methodical. But frankly, Diana herself wasn’t sure what exactly that entailed. The Wagandea curse was very rare; very few had come into contact with the tree’s pollen after all, and a cure had yet to be discovered. Research, however, had always been an area of expertise for Diana. That was going to be the easy part. The hard part was...

“Akko,” said Diana, jolting awake in her bed, the space next to her empty. She had had a dream about Akko, if blurting out her name upon waking was anything to go by, but it had been fleeting. She lay there unmoving for several moments, mind barren of thought, as if in a fog, and then rose to wash her face. She realized when she was finished that she had been wearing one of Akko’s old sweaters as sleepwear (the black one with the small _Doraemon_ head on the top left breast, and the character's name in hiragana along the sleeves, which ended in striped blue cuffs), and wondered inwardly if the world was trying to mock her. For what, she wasn’t sure, but one thing for certain was that she kind of sort of hated her own guts right now. The tired, sunken face staring back at her in the mirror more or less confirmed that.

She was never one to spend a great deal of time looking at herself. But it was different this time, wasn’t it? She was going to be seeing Akko for the first time in _five months_. The least she could do was make herself look presentable.

She hadn’t changed much, really. Not even since she’d graduated from Luna Nova. Her jaw and cheekbones had sharpened, her fuller cheeks had all but melted away, though not entirely (come on, she wasn’t _that_ old), and that was about the extent of it. Her hair was still waist-length, parted to the left, and her eyes, though a brilliant shade of blue, were about as expressive as a blank sheet of paper, as they had always been. She was every bit the beautiful lady her mother had been, as Anna liked to tell her, and Diana would ignore her every time, as she liked to do; her appearance was never at the forefront of her mind. There were always more important things; her studies, her work, her family, Akko…

After bathing and getting herself dressed (a white button up and jeans, which would later be complimented by her favourite Burberry trench coat), there was a knocking on her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she said, looping her belt through its buckle.

The door creaked open to reveal Anna, who seemed a bit meek, though warm. “Good morning, Diana,” she said. “I’ve just put the kettle on. Daryl’s brought home some fresh fruit and pastries as well. I don’t want to see you eating cake for breakfast again, hmm?”

“Thank-you,” said Diana, running fingers through her hair. They had caught in a myriad of tangles.  

Anna smiled and stepped through the door. “Let me help you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” grunted Diana.

“Stubborn girl. Come along,” said Anna, pushing Diana by the shoulders, down into the seat in front of her vanity, her teddy bear perched atop of it. She opened the drawer and pulled out a hairbrush. “Like we used to.”

And so, when Diana hadn’t protested, she began to brush, parting and smoothing out all the knots and kinks; painful at first, and then soothing. Diana purred a little.

“Are you nervous?” asked Anna. While vague, it was clear what, or rather who, she was referring to.

“No,” said Diana, and then at the mere question, a shiver blasted through her body, and her hands began to shake. “Sorry. That was a lie.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Anna, working through a particularly rough knot. Diana’s thick, wavy locks were always unruly and famously difficult to tame in the mornings. “More than anything I want to see you two on good terms again.”

Diana sighed and clasped her hands together in her lap in an effort to stop them from shaking, to no avail. “So do I,” she said.

Anna had been hostile toward Akko when she had first barged into the Cavendish manor at sixteen, but had grown fond of her when she and Diana had begun dating at seventeen, and then had practically accepted her as part of the family when Akko had surprised Anna on her birthday with a clay tea set and a box of wagashi. She had been weary of the confections at first, but was smitten at first bite, so smitten that she had asked Akko to bring back some more every time she returned from Japan. The second time, Akko had brought back packs of Castella cake, the third, red bean paste snacks sandwiched between pancake-like pastry, and the fourth, an assortment of daifuku mochi. It became a tradition of sorts. And Akko never minded when Anna would butcher the pronunciation of said sweets. But now...

Diana tried hard not to think that it was her fault. She tried hard not to think that she didn’t even deserve this chance. Most of all, she tried hard not to think that Akko would never forgive her for what she did. The gut-hating had returned in full force.

“All set,” said Anna, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She had done wonders to bring attention away from the jadedness in Diana’s expression, and for that she was grateful. “I believe in you.”

Diana didn’t have the same faith in herself.

—————

After managing only a single bite of her danish (it was a raspberry pinwheel, the kind Akko used to spin around on her plate like it was an actual pinwheel in order to amuse Diana), Anna bid Diana farewell at the manor doors, and she took off on her broom to Glastonbury. From there, she rode the leyline along the St. Michael Alignment, and landed on the hill a few kilometres away from school grounds. From where she stood, the school looked the same as she remembered it; great and castle-like, enclosed by the lush greenery of the Arcturus forest, and adorned by the clocktower placed parallel to the sorcerer’s stone.

She began making her way down the hill, which was covered by a thin layer of slush, the product of a rather wet winter (she suddenly imagined an adolescent Amanda saying, _“Ha! You just said wet!”_ and then imagined herself sipping a nice glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape). When she was halfway down the hill, she began having doubts. She already had doubts, mind you, but she just had more of them.

She stopped, started pacing, and clutched her head in her hands like a crazy person. When the pacing did nothing to ease her anxiety, she took a seat at a bench nearby and doubled over.

She was so nervous, she was nauseous.

In just a few minutes, she would make it to the bottom of the hill, walk through the school gates, and come face to face with her ex, who she was still very much in love with, and whose heart she had broken with her very own hands. Her otherwise empty stomach had filled with guilt, fear, self-loathing, and just about every other negative emotion in the book. In that moment, she was not Diana Cavendish. She was Diana “Rubbish, Truly Awful, Terrible Person” Cavendish. She remembered the other Diana Cavendish, the one who was full of herself, snide, and snobbish, and while for a moment she cringed at the thought, she found herself envious of her. That Diana, no matter how unpleasant, would not allow herself to wallow. Not like this.

The shaking in her hands returned, and she willed them to stop by closing her palms into fists, screwed her eyes shut and begged her body to just stop and listen and—

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Everything stopped. The shaking, the bad thoughts, the nausea. The world. And she looked up.

It all came rushing back, like it had been there all along. Cheeks she could almost feel the softness of, dark eyes that were bright and inviting (although this time slightly drained and concerned), long silky hair that had been dyed a gorgeous shade of brown. All undeniably _Akko_. And unlike Diana, she had changed a lot since they had graduated. Before, she was Diana’s rather cute classmate. Now, she had an air of maturity and experience about her. Now, she was beautiful. She was perfect.

Diana was staring. She was staring, awestruck, unable to take all of her in, but she knew one thing for certain, and that was the comfort that had enveloped her just at the sight of her. She forgot the guilt and welcomed the longing. She welcomed _her_.

“I,” was all Diana could croak out, because she was very eloquent like that. She noticed that Akko was abnormally taller than her, and realized she was still sitting dumbly on the bench, so she shot up onto her feet a bit too quickly to bring their regular height difference back. “I-I’m fine, it’s good to see you. You look— you look great.”

Akko laughed and Diana felt her heart squeeze like the meat of an orange. “Right back at ya,” she said, and smiled toothily. Normally, she would have pounced at Diana and thrown her into a bone-crushing hug, but she stayed put.

Her hair was down, not in its usual mini ponytail, and she was wearing a simple yet chic outfit, consisting of a sweater, an oversized red bomber jacket, and most notably, a pair of thin, gold, wireframe glasses.

You see, back when they were still dating, Diana’s vision had deteriorated somewhat over the years, and so did Akko’s. While Diana had become farsighted and needed reading glasses, Akko had become nearsighted and required a prescription to see anything more than a few metres away from her. The two had made a date out of picking out each others’ glasses; Akko had picked a rather unfitting pair of maroon spectacles for Diana (though charming all the same; she would wear _almost_ anything Akko picked for her after all), and Diana had chosen a pair of black frames for Akko. Akko had opted to wear contacts most of the time, what with her performances and rigorous physical activity, but otherwise always wore the pair Diana had picked out for her.  

Diana frowned and chose not to comment on it, which only led to a prolonged, awkward silence between them. Being near the person you only _used_ to touch, kiss, sleep with (in both senses of the word— don’t be too naughty), and spend most of your days with was… odd, to put it lightly.

“So,” said Akko rocking on her heels. “Let’s face the music.”

They began a very awkward, very silent descent to the school grounds.

—————

Ursula was being kept in a private room on a singular wheeled bed, surrounded by both machines and magical devices alike (they even kept an astrology-themed lava lamp on her bedside to make things more homey; Ursula had always liked gaudy trinkets liked that). The local hospitals had refused to provide a long term space for her, and the school’s nurse room was too frequently visited by students to provide her with any sort of privacy, so they had thought it best to set up a new room just for her.

If Diana hadn’t known Ursula was gravely ill, she would have thought she was merely asleep. Her eyes were draped closed, forehead free from any wrinkles, and her chest rose and fell at a slow, almost blissful pace. There was still colour in her skin, and a redness like cherry drops in her lips. She seemed wholly unaware of the state she was in, as if her body was present, but her mind was lost somewhere in a far off dream.

“How long has she been comatose for?” asked Diana.

The nurse sucked her lips in and then drew them into a thin line. “A few days. We thought it was exhaustion at first, but we did a close examination of her magic pathways, and found that they were struggling to keep her soul aflame. The curse is interfering with the natural flow of magic in her body.”

Diana brought a hand to her chin. The obvious solution was to jumpstart her body into functioning by itself again, and to keep funneling magic into her veins indefinitely to maintain that stability, but it wasn’t a simple feat. To Diana’s knowledge, modern witchcraft still hadn’t found a way to make this possible. For now, all they could do was ensure that magic was still flowing within her at a smooth pace. And they still had the curse to worry about.

She looked to Akko, who had been uncharacteristically quiet; she must have been taking it hard. Her brows furrowed and she shook her head. “We’ll find a cure for her,” she said, voice filled with determination, and then vulnerability. “She’s... not in any pain, is she?”

“As far as Ursula is concerned,” said the nurse, “She’s just having a very pleasant nap.”

Akko sighed in relief, and Diana could practically see the stress evaporating from her, pacified by the simple reassurance. She wondered what Ursula was dreaming about.

——————

“The first thing we ought to do is to conduct a search in the library,” said Diana as they made their way down the steps, an apparent amount of space between them. She ignored the presence of the vapid vending machines and charging outlets scattered about the halls. The school had not changed much since she had last seen it, save for these little reminders of modernity.  “And if that fails, there are a number of archives we can visit as well as a number of experts we can consult with—”

“Diana!” a voice at the bottom of the stairs called. It was Hannah, wearing teacher’s garb, her hair free from its usual yellow bow. “Akko!”

She gave them both an individual hug and an individual once-over. “Your glasses look great on you, Akko." 

Diana felt a wave of jealousy wash over her, as unreasonable as it was (curse her human emotions!).

Akko sheepishly scratched the back of her head like she did when she was shy. “Awwh. Thanks. How’s it going?”

“None of the first years have set my hair ablaze yet, which is good,” said Hannah, shrugging. “Fundamentals of Conjuring.” 

“Oh boy,” said Akko. “Yeah, I definitely might have started a fire or two in that class…”

A gaggle of students had stopped to watch.

 _“Is that Wandering Atsuko?”_ Diana heard them babble amongst themselves. _“Do you think she’d show us a few tricks?”_

“Well,” said Akko, “It looks like I have some teenyboppers to entertain, and the two of you are probably itching to catch up.” She turned to Diana. “Meet you at the library?”

She was dragged away before Diana could even so much as nod.

“I’m not stealing your time, am I?” asked Diana as they settled into a walk.

“Not at all,” said Hannah. “We’re on lunch break but the staff room can get a little, uh, strange. Did you know some dragons don’t have teeth? There’s a dragon-lady teacher here who doesn’t have any, so all she does is eat peanut butter and her gums makes this smack-smack-smack noise and it drives me mad. But apparently that’s a fetish, so who knows?”  

“Everything’s a fetish,” said Diana, slightly amused at the fact that their conversations could take such a bizarre turn even after so long.

“Right? You get it,” said Hannah. “Anyway, how have you and Akko been?”

Ah, right. The dreaded ‘how is the couple doing?’ question. Diana breathed through her nose and once again imagined that tasty, tasty glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. “We broke up.”

Hannah stopped walking and stood there foolishly like her shoes had melted into the floor like wax. She caught up and whisper-shouted in Diana’s ear, “You _what?_ ”

“We broke up,” Diana repeated, without emotion. “Around last March.”

“ _You broke up!_ ” She whisper-shouted again, like a broken Walkman. “Diana, I thought you were going to announce your _engagement!_ ”

“Engagement?” Diana sputtered. “We’re a bit young for that, aren’t we?”

“Oh come on, with how obsessed you were with each other it’s the least surprising thing I could think of,” said Hannah. “You used to shag like rabbits! Remember when I caught you two right around there-ish?” She gestured vaguely.

Diana calmly forced Hannah to lower her hand and her voice. “ _Not_ appropriate.”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Hannah, looking dejected. “I just… wow. I had no idea. We really went our separate ways after graduation, didn't we?”

She could understand Hannah’s astonishment. She wouldn’t in a million years have pictured things going the way they did, although if she hadn’t been so needlessly obtuse, she probably could have seen it coming a mile a way, and stopped it.

They passed by Finnelan’s room. She had caught wind of Finnelan’s retirement about a year and a half ago, but was too swamped with work to come pay her a visit. Which was a shame, because depending on how you looked at it, she had a lot to thank Finnelan for.

She peeked inside, and felt like she had been transported back in time.

—————

_“Psst. Diana.” Akko poked her in the waist. They were in the middle of a second year Magic Linguistics lecture. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”_

_Normally, Diana would have scolded her for not so much as bringing a writing utensil to class. Instead, she very calmly reached into her bag, took out a spare pen… and then so overcome with nerves almost threw it at her, all semblance of grace and poise flying out the proverbial window._

_“Thanks a billion,” said Akko, unaware of Diana’s internal warfare._

_“Of course,” said Diana, this time stern to cover up her previous lapse in tact, and pretended that butterflies didn’t erupt in her stomach at the fact that she had not only been poked by Akko, but had been able to help her._

_Now, Diana was not stupid. She knew very well that she was suffering with the effects of a schoolgirl crush. And she had it bad. She was giddy. Cavendishes did not get giddy. She spent all day thinking about Akko, no matter what she was doing. Cavendishes did not waste time thinking about awfully cute, awfully clumsy Japanese girls. But there she was, hopelessly, obsessively infatuated with Atsuko Kagari._

_That fact that she liked another girl didn’t bother her. She knew from a rather young age that she was gay (about ten years old or so, when she would stare at pretty ladies in public for long periods of time, and then try her hardest to memorize each and every one of their faces so she could think about them when she got home). There was nothing she found more beautiful than the mere idea of a woman. She loved everything about them. A woman’s softness, her hair, her lips, her breasts, her v_ — _ahem._ _Even moreso, though, she was in love with the love that could exist between two women._

 _But to have a crush was stupid. And Diana was_ not _stupid (it bore repeating like that)._

_“It’s ill fit,” said Diana, activating her ‘tough girl act’ defense mechanism._

_Akko did a double take, eyes wide. “Huh?”_

_Diana’s brow twitched. Why did she have to be so bloody adorable! “Your uniform. It’s ill fit. The shirt and vest are a size too big, the skirt is too tight and pulled too high up, and the ribbon...”_

_“Oh. Sucy spilled her potion all over my top so I had to borrow Amanda’s,” she said innocently. “I didn’t think you’d notice the skirt though.”_

_“Yes, well, if you wear it like that how could I not stare at it?”_

_“You huh?”_

_Diana died. On the inside. She mentally started digging her own grave. She did_ not _just admit to Akko herself that she stared at Akko’s bum. For lengthy periods of time, at that, but this was not addressed._

_“Girls,” said Finnelan from the front of the classroom. “I’m aware that second year is a time for budding romance, but do so outside of my class please.”_

_Romance?_ Romance!? _If Diana had the gall, she would have pummeled Finnelan into a little tomato-y pulp! But she did not. She was a Cavendish. Cavendishes did not pummel their teachers into tomato-y pulps._

_Akko didn’t seem to realize the rather lesbian implications of what Diana said, and seemed to take Finnelan’s remark as nothing but a good dash of British humour, so the panic subsided, and Diana made a mental reminder to postpone the gravedigging._

_In the coming weeks, the mishap hadn’t hurt their friendship. In fact, if Diana wasn’t reading into it too much, the two enjoyed a fair amount of not-so-subtle flirtation, even if Akko seemed to only be doing it in good fun._

_“Hey gorgeous,” said Akko outside the lecture hall in a faux-macho voice._

_Diana rolled her eyes, praying for the red in her cheeks to go away. “Don’t be daft.”_

_“I’m teasing,” said Akko. “It’s a budding romance, remember? Also, you owe me another match at Chariot cards.”_

_“No, I do not,” said Diana, brushing her off to get to Advanced Magic Numerology._

_Akko matched her pace. “You don’t wanna play because you won the last match and you wanna end on a good note.”_

_“Hmm. I don’t recall saying that.”_

_“Gasp!” said Akko, a little dramatically. “Is Diana Cavendish a sore loser?” she pinched and pulled at Diana’s cheek, stretching it like dough._

_“Akko, stop,” she laughed, even though the last thing she wanted was for her to let go._

_She did eventually, and walked backwards, keeping eye contact with her. “You should smile more often, you’re super pretty!” She waved goodbye (with both hands!), jogged to her next class, and left Diana very red and very gay._

_A few nights later, Diana was playing cards with her roommates. They were in pajamas, with Hannah and Barbara in matching rubber duck patterned sets, and Diana with a plain t-shirt and shorts. There was an empty box of Jaffa Cakes between them, and a smattering of Jaffa Cake crumbs on the sheets. Diana would have made a fuss, but they were sitting on Barbara’s bed and not hers, so that was okay. And besides, there was a more pressing matter she wanted to attend to._

_“See, I told you we should have played strip poker,” said Barbara to Hannah. “Diana’s so bored she’s spacing out.”_

_“Pardon?” said Diana, hearing nothing but the word ‘strip,’ which she wanted very badly to do with Akko. She also wanted to cuddle with her and perhaps touch her boobs, but this was also not addressed._

_“It’s your turn,” said Hannah. “Barbara said go fish.”_

_Diana stared at her cards. She was nowhere near getting four of a kind. “Girls, I have something to tell you.”_

_Immediately, Han and Barb recognized this signal, the Midnight-Teen-Confessions signal, and swatted the cards away._

_Diana tethered her fingers together in her lap and breathed deeply. She would be very vague about this. She would simply tell them she had a crush, and nothing more. “I like someone,” she said._

_“That’s great!” said Barbara, squishing her walrus plushie in delight. “When are you going to tell her?” She went_ oof! _When Hannah elbowed her in the ribs._

 _Diana turned into a tomato. “I didn’t_ — _I never said_ — _I_ _didn’t specify_ —”

_“Look what you’ve done!” cried Hannah. “You’ve gone and broke her!”_

_“I-I never said it was a ‘she’!,” said Diana, in the middle of Han and Barb’s catfight._

_“Sweetie, we’ve never seen you look at a man for more than two seconds,” said Hannah. “And if you did, you were scowling at him.”_

_“Preach sister,” said Barbara, and they high-fived._

_“But I_ — _that’s just a coincidence! I… I’m not… Oh, who am I kidding, I’m a raging homosexual,” said Diana, and they did a three-way high-five._

_“That’s the articulate Diana that I know,” said Hannah._

_“Is it Akko?” said Barbara. She once again elbowed in the ribs, and went_ Oof! _even louder this time. That was sure to leave a bruise._

_Diana buried her face in her hands. By the Nine, she was embarrassed. “Am I really that obvious?”_

_“Well,” said Han and Barb at the same time, and then refused to elaborate any further._

_“Do you think she’s gay too?” asked Hannah, to save Diana from the humiliation._

_Diana frowned, floating down from her coming-out-and-crush-confession high. “I don’t know.”_

_“They’re kind of homophobic where she’s from, aren’t they?” said Barbara. “Or, just not as accepting? From what I’ve read. A homogenous society and all that…”_

_Diana wasn’t going to deny it, she’d read similar things. But surely Akko wasn’t. She was as open-minded as they came. Wasn’t she?_

_As if to answer her question, in the coming month, Akko became distant. She would greet her and nothing more. She would actively avoid her in the hallways. She stopped asking Diana to play cards with her. Akko had been withdrawing from her friends too, it seemed, because she was missing from the red team’s lunch table most days. She wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t said anything about her crush on her. It could have been totally unrelated._

_But Diana would get to the bottom of this._

_After curfew one night (because she could), she threw her jacket on and left for Akko’s room in the west dormitory. She ran into Amanda, who was running down the halls with a Steelers hoodie over her uniform and an unreadable expression on her face._

_“There you are,” she said._

_“What are you up to?” asked Diana, a tad accusatory._

_“Telling your girlfriend she’s not sick in the head,” said Amanda._

_“What?”_

_“‘_ What?’” _mocked Amanda, imitating her accent. “You’d know what’s going on if you bothered asking her.”_

_“She’s not my girlfriend.”_

_“Nice priorities, Diana. Look, we all know you’re gay and have a big fat crush on Akko. So I may or may not have told her about this big fat gay crush.”_

_Diana felt like Amanda had slung a hammer into her heart, blasting it to bits. She was near brought to tears. “You wouldn’t.”_

_“Well, I’m just gonna say sorry now, because I’m an asshole, but you’re going to say thank-you later, because I’m a saint. She’s in the observatory. Make this right, Gayvendish!”_

_She sped past Diana. What had she done?_

_Too worried about Akko to even think about giving Amanda what-for, Diana once again threw all grace and poise out the window and dashed through the hallways and up the long, winding steps to the observatory. When she made it to the top, she saw Akko standing at the ledge, admiring the view of the forest. It was cold out, and she had no coat on._

_“Akko,” said Diana, cutting through the silence._

_Akko startled and clambered against the railing. She stared at Diana, eyes wide, pupils red as rubies._

_Diana approached her, cautious. She took her jacket off and motioned to put it on Akko._

_“You’ll catch a cold out here,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s just like you to be this silly.”_

_“Diana, it’s fine,” she whined. “You don’t have to…”_

_“No, I insist,” said Diana, already throwing it around Akko’s shoulders._

_She huffed and pushed her arms through the sleeves. It was a tad big for her, but Diana didn’t have the heart to tell her that. She was cute in it._

_“Are you alright?’ asked Diana. “I know I… I know I should have spoken to you sooner, but I thought you needed space because sometimes_ I _want space but you’re not me and sometimes space isn’t what you need and…”_

 _Akko started laughing. “And you say_ I _ramble.”_

_“Well, yes, you do have a funny way of making me a bit of a mess.” If Diana wasn’t mistaken, she swore she saw Akko blush. She was naive to think Akko wouldn’t look downright beautiful with a faint red tint in her cheeks. “Amanda told me you were sick…?”_

_“Ah,” said Akko, suddenly crestfallen. The look on her face made Diana’s chest hurt. “Figures she would have told you. Look, the whole thing… everything’s a mess. And if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, that’s fine. In fact everyone can just stop being my friend because I totally get it and—”_

_“Akko, what are you talking about—”_

_“I’m gay!” she blurted, tears brimming her eyes. “Okay? I like… I like girls, and I didn’t know that until I met you. Until I started thinking you were the best person I’d ever met, until I realized how much I loved to make you smile, until I found myself wanting to just hug you and keep you safe and I… God, this is so weird, but I_ like _you Diana and I just don’t know how to deal with that and, and...”_

_She hiccuped and tears had begun spilling down her cheeks._

_“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” said Diana, ignoring the ‘I like you Diana’ that had stuck itself on repeat in her head. She wrapped her arms around Akko, which was profoundly un-Diana-like, but in that moment, she had simply channeled her inner Amanda and said ‘Fuck it.’ She stroked Akko’s hair (she had always wanted to do that), held her close (she had always wanted to do that too), but held herself back from kissing her on the forehead (she was not brave enough to do this). “It’s not ‘weird’ at all. It’s normal. Your friends will accept you, and if they don’t, then they simply aren’t your friends.”_

_Akko choked on a sob, tears and probably snot staining Diana’s shoulder. “And you accept me?”_

_“Of course I accept you,” said Diana, still stroking her hair. “Of course I do.”_

_After a while, still in her arms, Akko had begun to relax and slowly stopped crying. Then, shoulder-to-shoulder, they simply gazed at the stars._

_“Do you remember when I left the school last year?” said Diana. “And we said goodbye to each other at this very spot?”_

_Akko smiled, a real toothy one. A dimple pressed into her cheek, and Diana swore she could catch those same stars in them. “You couldn’t make me forget.”_

_“You chased after me. It’s one of my most cherished memories,” said Diana, and then gasped. She tugged at Akko’s sleeve. “Look, Akko. It’s Corona Borealis.” She pointed at a U-shaped cluster of stars high above them, tracing them with her finger._

_“What’s the story behind it?” asked Akko, the constellations above sparkling in her eyes. “Every star has a story behind it, right?”_

_Diana nodded. “Corona Borealis, the Northern Crown. If I remember correctly, there was a princess, Ariadne, who was said to have worn this same crown at her wedding. She sailed off with her lover, the hero Theseus, who she helped to defeat the Minotaur and escape his labyrinth. But he abandoned her on an island. Dionysus found her and comforted her, and the two fell in love. They threw her crown into the sky when they were married, and the jewels turned into those very stars we’re looking at right now.”_

_Akko, absorbed in the story, watched the stars with a wide grin on her face that Diana thought to be far more magnificent than any night sky in the world._

_“You know,” said Akko, “It kind of looks like a smile, don’t you think?”_

_“It does,” said Diana, not looking at the smile in the sky, but at Akko’s. “It’s beautiful.”_

_Akko turned to look at her, her face half illuminated by the moonlight, and Diana thought her heart might explode._

_“I like you,” blurted Diana. “All those things you said before— I feel them too.”_

_Akko blinked, and it was her turn to become a tomato. She squeaked something in Japanese, and then rephrased in English, “You huh?”_

_And now they were both tomatoes. “W-Why are you so surprised?” said Diana. “I thought Amanda told you. I thought my lesbianism was already established.”_

_“Amanda just said she was gonna grab some popcorn and then come back, she didn’t say anything about…”_

_Ah._

_So that’s how it was. Diana was going to murder that American bastard. “This went far better in my head,” she groaned, hiding her face in her hair._

_Akko poked her in the waist like she had in class that one time, and Diana dissolved into giggles. Her mind was purged of the murderous thoughts, and then imploded when Akko trailed a hand up her arm. Akko was looking at her expectantly, and then said:_

_“I wanna kiss you right now. And I wanna know if that’s okay.”_

_So Diana showed her it was okay. She cupped her face— her cheek just as soft as she had imagined it to be, though a bit cold— and kissed her. Her lips were pillowy and sweet, tasting of the strawberry candies Ursula left in a bowl on her desk, her body warm and incendiary. She felt Akko exhale through her nose and hum, as though savouring the kiss, and so Diana deepened it, cupping her other cheek. Akko leaned in, placing a hand on her waist, and although Diana swore she heard Amanda howling and hooting somewhere above them, she kissed her again and again and again._

_—————_

“...Well, I won’t pry,” said Hannah, who had walked Diana to the library, still on the astonishing subject of their break-up. “You can’t force people to talk about things they don’t want to talk about.  learned that in this anti-bullying initiative I joined after graduation.”

It seemed like a very basic thing to know, but Diana didn’t judge. There were a lot of very basic things that Diana hadn’t known, and still didn’t know to this day. “That’s wonderful.”

“I started one here at Luna Nova. After how I treated Akko back then, there was a lot of guilt,” she said. “I was a bitch. Oh, but don’t tell the students I said that.”

“I swear it,” said Diana.

“Whatever it is, I’m hoping for the best for you two, okay?” said Hannah. “And I know you can save Ursula. I just know it. We’ll have tea sometime, yeah?”

“I’ll have it written down,” said Diana. They exchanged goodbyes and she stepped through the library doors, where her heart once again hammered at the thought of being in close proximity of one Akko Kagari.

_—————_

“Any luck?” asked Akko in the seat across from her. They were in their usual secluded spot in the back corner of the library, where they used to spend entire nights not just studying for exams, but playing board games, nerding out about magic, or listening to music (usually the video game instrumentals Akko introduced her to) through one earbud each.

Diana plucked her reading glasses off her face and set them down onto the table. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “None at all,” she said. They had pored through dozens of dozens of medical texts (it was more Diana, honestly) and found nothing of interest. There were cures to itches, hiccups, and sleeping limbs, which Diana had thought to be, quite frankly, ridiculous. Those were just minor afflictions; mere annoyances at best. The magic community could be frustrating at times.

Akko poked a hole into her box of apple juice with a bendy straw and drank the whole thing in one go.

It was quiet again.

“Where did you get that?” asked Diana, in a last-ditch effort to make things not awkward.

“Vending machine,” said Akko. She examined the googly-eyed cartoon apple on the juice carton with profound interest.

“Right,” said Diana.

_Riveting conversation._

Akko had evidently reached the bottom of the box when she began making suction-y noises with her straw. She must have thought it was funny because she was smiling.

Diana rolled her eyes. “Stop it.”

She ceased immediately. “My bad.”

 _Oh, great going Cavendish,_ she thought to herself, oddly in Amanda’s voice, and then in her own. _You’ve screwed up again._

“Sorry,” said Diana.

“It’s alright,” said Akko.

It wasn’t, really.

_“We should hold hands,” Akko had said at that same spot in the library six years ago, seated across from one another. She kicked Diana’s foot a little in an effort to coax her. They had been dating for a few months, and hadn’t yet made it past second base despite how badly the hyper-sexual Diana wanted to jump Akko’s bones; she wasn’t ready yet, but Diana would wait millenia if it meant spending those millenia with her._

_“Akko, we can’t,” said Diana. “Public displays of affection are uncouth.”_

_“Right, but when it’s just the two of us you’re the handsy one.”_

_“What we do in the privacy of our own rooms is nobody’s business but ours,” she said matter-of-factly, referring to the incredible amount of heavy petting they did. “In public, everybody is everyone else’s business.”_

_“Come onnnn, just a little teeny-weeny hand touch. Not even a hand-hold. A hand-touch.”_

_“No.” She smiled despite herself._

_“Pleaaaase? Your hands are all pretty and soft and kinda bony but pretty and soft nonetheless. You can’t blame me for wanting to hold ‘em.”_

_Diana did what many smitten teenagers did; she bit her lip, squirmed, and then gave in. “Fine. But under the table.”_

_“Yay!” blurted Akko, which resulted in a chorus of shushes. “Meep.”_

_And then they met, touching their index fingers together kind of like E.T., which made them both explode into quiet giggles, and then gradually clasped their hands together. They kept them like that until curfew, and everyone else in the room was none-the-wiser._

_Unbeknownst to Diana, she had just caused Akko to develop a hand-holding addiction. She would ask Diana to hold her hand in the halls, on their days out in Blytonbury, while gazing under the stars in search of Orion. And soon, Akko didn’t have to ask at all._

_—————_

After exhausting the medical texts at the library for information had left them as empty-handed as they had been when they started, they scoured the section on magical artifacts at the Luna Nova archives. But that too had so far proven unfruitful. At most, they had found the cause of the Wagandea curse _—_ which was almost stupid to record as the cause was in the very name _—_ and a general description of the curse.

Diana took note of the book’s call number and pushed it back into the shelf.

“It’s sunny out,” she said, staring out the window. It was almost laughable, really. Diana, hater of small talk, was talking about the weather of all things.

“Guess it is,” said Akko, smiling, but Diana knew she was only doing that to be polite, and not because she actually found Diana’s choice of conversation to be fascinating. She too put back the book she was reading “Hey, it’s kinda cool, don’t you think?”

“What is?” asked Diana.

“We’re just looking for things together like we used to back when we were students. Remember when Sucy fed me something and I grew a cat tail?”

Diana grinned. “I have pictures.”

“‘Course you do. The only time you and technology every agreed with one another. And then Sucy called you a furry because of the cat tail and we had to explain to you what that was and you looked like you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Anyway, first thing we did was go to the library, read a bunch of books, and then you figured it out.”

She couldn’t stop smiling. “I remember it being more of a team effort.”

“If you reading more words per minute than a super-computer and me squeezing my cat tail to test out my pain tolerance count as a team effort, then I guess so.”

Diana laughed, a real laugh, and Akko laughed too. Finally, _finally_ things were on the right track.

And then, as if all good things came to end, there was the reflex.

As if she was being controlled, as if it was an instinct much like blinking or breathing, Diana had reached out for a split fraction of a second to touch Akko’s hand. And Akko had flinched away.

 _Flinched._ Like Diana’s touch was fire and Akko was a torn-up flower scared of losing its last petals, like Akko was afraid of her and thought she might burn her.

“Sorry,” said Diana, but in her head it sounded more like, _I’m a bloody idiot._

“No,” said Akko, “I didn’t mean to do that, I just, sort of, wasn’t expecting that.”

 _"_ I wasn’t expecting it either,” said Diana, as if that fixed anything. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Akko, but Diana _did_ worry.

She worried that she didn’t even half-deserve this chance to make things right again, worried that she would screw this up just as she had everything else, worried that even though they were here together physically, they would forever be far, far apart, in just about every other way possible.

And she worried she could do nothing to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if that was a bit of a downer, things are gonna get fluffier and more fun from here on out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! So originally in my outline i had set their breakup as being around a year, but i changed it last minute to 5 months because i was worried people would think a year was too long. After considering it for a few days i decided to change it back as it makes more sense for the narrative. Ive gone back and edited things a little (i also changed the sanrio sweater to doraemon cuz i thought he was just more iconic JADLKFJASDF), and for those of you who have been here from the start i added some sections to this chapter that reflect these changes :^) im glad fanfiction is a platform that allows for experimental things like this HAHA hope yall enjoy! (and thanks carp for the pointer!)

In the end, they had made no progress. The two had found nothing close to a cure to the Wagandea curse, and they had regressed to sitting together in prolonged, uncomfortable silence, which ultimately did them no favours. Diana didn’t fret over the former; research took time after all, but she was agonizing at the latter. She had anguished so terribly about meeting up with Akko for the first time since their year-long break up that she had forgotten to think about what to say to her _after_ the fact. All they had really talked about during their search in Luna Nova was the cure to the curse. And because of this, despite Diana’s outward composure, she was internally beating herself up into an itty bitty peach pulp.

Next on the list was a trip to Blytonbury. It was home to the second largest magic auction house in England (the biggest being in Oxford), and was the epicentre of magic commerce despite the prohibition of magic in the city proper. Deeper in the city there was a library that kept a protected section on ancient artifacts and healing practices, and Diana hoped they would be making some progress there. But, while they were able to take the leyline there together and keep a reasonable space between them and their broomsticks, Diana realized something horrifying. The library was on the other side of town from the leyline terminal, which meant…

“We’ll have to take the bus,” said Diana with a sigh.

 _Public transport!_ The last time she was required to be forced into a cramped vehicular compound was when she and Akko rode the Tokyo Metro together during rush hour. They had been squashed together until they were nearly one, hands overlapped on the same handrail, and Akko had merely laughed at the fact that, while it looked like a local and a foreigner had unwittingly invaded each other’s personal spaces, they were really a loving couple taking advantage of some under-the-radar physical affection. But it was different now. 

“Oh, it won’t be so bad,” said Akko as a bus arrived, ever the optimist.

They paid their fares and squeezed closer to the rear of the crowded bus, as was public transport etiquette, but with what little room they had, Diana had no choice but to press Akko up to the back of an end seat. The engine rumbled and they merged back into traffic.

Diana felt like she was suffocating. Their faces were soclose together she could count Akko's eyelashes if she wanted. Diana held her broom between them, unsure of where to put her hands, and was overwhelmed; by the scent of citrus, by the visible rise and fall in Akko’s chest at every breath she took, by the flutter of those same eyelashes beneath sun-polished specs. But this time, Akko wasn’t amused by their level of proximity. She wasn’t shaking Diana’s arm in excitement to get her to look outside the window or poking her all around the torso to get a laugh out of her. Instead, her eyes were downcast, taking the brunt of the bumps and shoves of the overeager tourists they were sharing the car with.

Diana tried to look at anything but Akko— the dirt-marred seats, the unbrushed mouths spewing touristy-drivel, the low clouds like stretched cotton that hung outside. But occasionally, her gaze would betray her, flitting to the soft curves of Akko’s face, tracing over her lips, and then up to her eyes. And Akko would be staring back at her, fixed, and in the split second that they made eye-contact, Akko would quickly look away as if she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. Diana wanted to reach out, to tell her it was okay. But she couldn’t.

They passed over a speed bump and the handrails clattered. The tourists’ voices droned on. Diana didn’t know what she should say. She didn’t know what she was _supposed_ to say. They hadn’t seen each other for an entire _year_ , and the circumstances of that separation weren’t exactly… ideal. What had happened that long year? What had changed? Obviously, Akko had been on tour in Japan, if Diana’s year’s worth of Wandering Atsuko DVD’s was anything to go by. But what had she been doing outside of that? She didn’t want to ask how Akko had been feeling after all this time, because if she said she felt like complete and utter shit, Diana knew it would all be because of her (and she wouldn’t blame her). And she couldn’t just ask if Akko had moved on either, or if she’d already found someone new, or…

Diana felt a lurch in her stomach. Both at the prospect of Akko having left her not only physically but emotionally, and then at the fact that what Diana was doing now wasn’t entirely honest. She wasn’t helping Akko now out of the goodness of her own heart, was she? Of course, she had a deep caring and respect for Ursula and _genuinely_ wanted to help her. Her very  _life_ was on the line, and she was depending on them. But Diana had an ulterior motive. She was helping Akko because she wanted to rekindle their relationship, whether that be on platonic terms or intimate terms, and _Nine,_ she was being so _selfish,_ and she was wholly undeserving of this chance and—

“Hey, Diana,” said Akko, her voice suddenly bursting through her thoughts, loud. She was looking at her attentively. “Sorry. You were kind of, uh, spacing out. We’re here now.”

“Ah,” said Diana, face heating, snapping out of her mopey-Diana reverie ( _bad_ mopey-Diana). “My apologies.”

Just outside was the city’s library, a mid-sized building with paper-white walls and intricate green designs painted in them that looked akin to sprawling vines. They squeezed out of the bus and stepped down onto the sidewalk, where they made their way up the front steps. Inside, they were met with bookshelves that made up for the lack of horizontal space by shooting up to the ceiling, and beyond the shelves sat an aged man behind a semi-circular desk, aquiline nose stuck in a book. Just around the corner beside him was a spiral staircase that was blocked with a few strands of nondescript barricade tape.

“Pardon me,” said Diana, earning his attention, going by the twitch in his moustache. “We’ve come in hopes of perusing the section in the topmost floor. Do you know how we’d go about accessing it?”

He shook his head, eyes still focused on his book. “If you’re not with the Magic Government or The Elite, I can’t say I do.”

She sighed and rummaged through her coat pocket for her wallet. Inside was her badge, which had her name printed on it in gold lacquered letters. “I’m a prospective member of The Elite.”

“I’m not hearing _‘actual_ member of The Elite,” he said, turning a page with a _fwip_. “So that’s a no from me.”

She shoved her wallet away and rubbed at her temples in circles as they made their way out.

“I didn’t know you were working with The Elite,” said Akko, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Those guys are like, superheroes.”

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” said Diana, grumpily. “But we need access to that library.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Akko. “The books downstairs are just regular books right?”

Diana nodded. “We might have to take a small trip. My superior might allow us a waiver, but his office is in London.”

“Or,” said Akko with a cheeky smile, “You could give him a call.”

“I refuse to be making any calls,” she said.

“Sure, but you’ll answer them?”

Diana allowed herself a small smile. _I’ll answer if it’s you who’s calling,_ she wanted to say, but didn’t (and was glad, because it was cheesy). She settled on, “touche.”

Just then, a voice interrupted them. “Diana,” it said.

 _Speak of the devil and he shall appear,_ thought Diana. It was Albert. He was wearing his usual teal overcoat and hat, and was carrying a paper bag of baguettes. It felt very strange to see her boss in a mundane place doing mundane things. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise,” said Diana politely. “This is Akko.”

“Hi,” she said, bowing her head out of habit (Akko had said it was hard to unlearn it, but Diana thought it charming). “Nice to meet you...”

“Albert,” he said, asking for her hand, and shaking it when she offered. “Head of The Elite. And by Akko, I don’t suppose you mean the famed Wandering Atsuko?”

“That’s me,” she said smiling, swiping the side of her nose with her thumb.

“I’m honoured,” he said. “Your work is spectacular.”

She shook her head. “I have Shiny Chariot to thank for making it this far.”

Diana filled with affection. Over the years, Akko had grown much more humble, and it made Diana feel all fuzzy inside.

A man, presumably Albert’s friend and of similar age, followed him into the conversation and gestured toward Diana. “Ah, is this the woman you’re always speaking so highly of?”

Albert hummed in approval. “None other than Diana Cavendish herself. She’s an extraordinary witch. I couldn’t be prouder to have her working with us.”

Diana didn’t say anything, never one for praise. She thought she should smile in situations like these, and so did, though it was a bit forced.

Albert’s hand fell on her shoulder, and the gesture felt genuine, almost fatherly. “When I’m old and frail, I have a feeling she’ll be the one to take the helm.”

“Those are high expectations,” said Diana. “But, seeing as you’re here, I hope you don’t mind me asking for a bit of a favour.”

“And what might that be?” asked Albert, curiously.

“An old mentor of ours is afflicted with the Wagandea curse,” said Diana. “We’ve been searching for a cure, but we haven’t been successful. We were hoping the Blytonbury library would have some information, but they’ve prohibited access to their magic archives from the public.”

“And you’re hoping I can provide you with a bit of a loophole,” said Albert.

“That’s the intent, yes,” said Diana.

“It’s against the rules,” said Albert. He paused, eyes trailing the sky, and then said, “But I’ll allow it. Just this once. Don’t tell Red or the others, alright?”

“Thank-you,” said Diana, relief flooding through her.

Akko was a little more enthusiastic about it. “Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!” she said, furiously shaking his hand in both of hers. “We won’t forget this.”

“But,” he said, escaping her hand-shaking wrath. “I’m afraid I can only allow Diana this privilege.”

“...Come again?” said Diana, unsure if she had heard that right.

“I can’t let Akko in,” he said. “Letting you in is enough an abuse of power already, anything more than that is extreme.”

“I won't be going in there without her,” said Diana. “You must allow it—”

“It’s okay,” interrupted Akko, without a hint of malice. “I’ll be fine out here. I trust you with stuff like this.”

Diana felt flowers blooming in her chest. _I trust you._ (Her lesbian brain redacted the rest of this sentence). “I-If you’re certain,” she said, stuttering no doubt due to the sudden confession, even though said lesbian brain was misconstruing Akko’s words.

“A hundred percent,” said Akko, looking her in the eye. “Come back with good news, alright?”

She exhaled, nodded, and broke her gaze away. “Fine,” she said to Albert.

“I thought you might agree,” said Albert, handing the bag to his friend. Diana gave one last look at Akko, who averted it, and was led back to the counter where the librarian had begun tucking into a new book. He looked up, recognized Albert, and closed it.

“This way,” he said, unraveling the barricade. The rusty metallic steps creaked under them as they climbed their way up, unfolding before them like sticks of charcoal, and once they reached the top, they found themselves in a dusty attic that had a shelf fixed into a steep, sloped wall. Albert mouthed, _I’ll wait here_ , and Diana followed the librarian deeper into the collection.

“Whatever it is you need, I’ll find it,” he said. “Rare gemstones, cryptid encyclopedias, necromancy…”  

“A cure to the Wagandea curse,” said Diana.

He hummed, rubbing his chin. “We might find something down here.”

He took her to the far end of the room, adjacent to the window, and they began to search. She flipped through indexes, thumbed through glossaries, felt her lungs seize at the sheer amount of dust they had collected, and soon felt herself getting a headache. She wished Akko were here with her. She felt like she was making this all about herself, when really, all she wanted was for them to be in it together. She looked out the window, and below them was a group of boys playing in a fountain modeled after Jennifer (they were trying to look under her skirt), a flea market comprised of multi-colour tents, and an unusual amount of hipster coffee shops. She spotted a man in a blue business suit wheeling around a suitcase.

“Luggage,” she blurted.

“What?” said the librarian.

Diana’s faced instantly flared up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just something my girlfri— my ex got me into. We used to play this game where we would count how many people we spotted wheeling around those silly little things. We were in the hundreds, I think.”

“Sounds like fun,” he said, nose once again stuck in a book.

“She was,” said Diana.

“I meant the game,” he said.

“Oh,” said Diana. Nine, was she ever making a fool of herself. “Right.”

As if to cover up her shame, she resumed researching at break-neck pace. As a result of this though, she came across something that caught her eye.

_The Lantern of Restoration_

_Dating back to the 4th century, this artifact, resembling a standard oil lantern, was created with the intent of being able to restore a witch’s ability to regulate magic within her body, restore her soul, and purge its ailments by harnessing a large amount of energy from the great tree Yggdrasil. Constructed using a strong, magic-reinforced metal, this lantern was made to be long-lasting and durable. Its last recorded usage was in the 14th century, in what is today known as Bath, Somerset. It is unknown whether the artifact was purged in The Witch Hunts._

Diana had never heard of such a thing. It looked entirely ordinary, but she knew better than to judge from outward appearance. This sounded like the real deal.

“I think I’ve found it,” she said.

He peered over her shoulder. “An old thing like that?” he said. “Gods know it even exists anymore.”

“It’ll have to do for now,” she said. She removed her glasses, folded them into the collar of her shirt, and pushed the book back into place (a reference text, not to be borrowed). “I have to thank you for your help.”

“Certainly,” he said. “Though you seem much better at my job than I am.”

Again with the praise. Diana evaded it. “I must ask you though,” she said, as they walked back to the top of the stairs. “Why is the area restricted? It’s not all dark magic, is it?”

“Heavens no,” he said. “The section on necromancy and other such dark arts is even _further_ restricted.”

“Then… why?”

“Well,” he said. “Only certain people are allowed to know certain things.”

Diana frowned. Going by that logic, ‘certain people’ did not include Akko, or any of her friends and family. “You keep cures to _illnesses_ here.”

“I don’t make the rules,” he said simply. “It’s just the way things are.”

It seemed entirely unfair, but Diana knew better than to make a scene.

“Got what you needed?” said Albert, glancing up from his watch.

“Indeed,” said Diana, as they wound their way down to the ground floor. “I have to thank you again.”

“Nary a problem,” he said. “It’s for a noble cause. It won’t interfere with work, will it?”

“I wouldn’t hope so,” she said.

They bid the librarian farewell, and stepped outside. Against the backdrop of a setting afternoon sun, Diana spotted Akko, speaking animatedly with Albert’s friend as she conjured miniature fireworks to the delight of a group of young children. They laughed and applauded, faces glowing with wonder, and Akko conjured trick after trick, sparks of light, a master puppeteer. The children were happy, and because of this, so was Akko. While Diana had never been good with young kids (she froze up around them— how ever were you even supposed to _interact_ with a child?), Akko was. _Terribly_ good, at that.

When the show was over, everyone applauded, including Diana and Albert. Akko turned around, unaware that they had been watching.

“Spectacular as always,” said Diana, still clapping.

“Aww shucks,” said Akko as the crowd dispersed. “Did you find anything?”

“You’ll be happy to know we did,” said Diana. “It’s not much, but it’s a good starting point.”

Akko squealed, shaking her fists around in glee. “I knew you could do it!”

“We hope for the best in your search,” said Albert, returning to the other man’s side. “I’ll be seeing you on our next mission, Diana.”

“I look forward to it,” said Diana. “And thank you again.”

“A billion thankses,” said Akko, returning once again with the furious hand-shaking.

They parted ways, and Diana and Akko instinctually began a quiet stroll through town. They passed by shop after shop, painted alternating colours— first yellow, then orange, then green. It was cold out, but not biting.

“So what did you find?” asked Akko.

“An ancient artifact of sorts,” said Diana. “It’s an old lantern that should be able to undo the harm done by the curse, and then rid of it once and for all.”

“That’s— that’s great!” said Akko, face vivid with glee. She suddenly seemed hyper aware of her own enthusiasm, as if she were afraid it might annoy Diana, and then dialed it down. “Ahem, I mean, then all we have to do is find it.”

Diana was struck with an abrupt sadness. She hated seeing Akko restrain who she truly was. She wished she could tell her it was okay, that she could be herself, but the words had caught in her throat. “The lantern could be anywhere,” she said instead, trying not to overthink things. “It was last seen centuries upon centuries ago. It could have been destroyed for all we know.”

“But it’s something,” reassured Akko. “Sometimes just ‘something’ is enough.”

Diana smiled solemnly. She stared at the side of Akko’s face, imagined running her finger along the bridge of her small, button nose, to skimming her thumb across her bottom lip, and then returned to look at the path in front of her when she realized Akko didn’t want to stare back. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They entered the plaza that surrounded the Jennifer fountain, and just beyond that was the market, which had just begun to pack up. The air was tense, stagnant.

“That guy Albert was with,” said Akko suddenly. “That was his boyfriend.”

A shock of surprise uncoiled through Diana’s body. “You’re joking.”

“Really!” said Akko. “He was super shy and didn’t say anything at first, but we started talking about the things that we like and he just said it! He said he’d never come out to anyone like that before.”

Diana let the thought simmer, taken aback. She tried thinking of any obvious signs that she might have missed, but couldn’t think of any. “I would never would have guessed.”

“Right?” said Akko. “Well, I kind of had a hunch, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. He said he was okay with me telling people, by the way. Lifts a burden off his shoulders.”

Diana was both surprised and impressed. Surprised, because she never would have assumed Albert was attracted to men, and impressed, because Diana herself would have never been able to get someone to open up so easily like that. Akko just had a way of getting people to open their hearts, and Diana loved that about her. She had done it to her friends, her teachers, her sponsors. She had done it to Diana. And in turn, Diana had been able to open up to Hannah and Barbara, and just about everyone else she knew. Everything good in her life, when it came down to it, was because of Akko.

“I think it’s cool what you do,” said Akko, after Diana had been mulling silently for too long. “I’ve read up about the evaluation process. It sounds super hard, but everyone looks so legit. I heard this one guy from The Elite stopped the Wild Hunt from going obsolete—” she was talking about Red— “and this one girl brought magic back to the world again.”

Diana blushed. She knew she was just being nice, but flattery, if it came from Akko, never failed to make her bashful. “Hmm. If I remember correctly, a certain someone was there too.”

“Team effort?” said Akko.

“Team effort,” said Diana.

They were silent again, until Akko blurted, “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Diana.

She stopped to look at what Akko was staring at. In front of them was the old cookie shop. The front sign, which once read ‘Colonel’s Cookies’, had been stripped away, and the door and windows had been boarded up.

It was the place they’d gone to on their very first date. The place they'd gone to when they were just starting to fall in love.

—————

_“English makes no sense,” said Akko as they entered the store, still in their school uniforms. The bells jingled above them . “Why is it spelt co-lo-nel, but pronounced ‘kernel?’ Japanese is so much easier.”_

_“You have three alphabets,” said Diana._

_“Yeah, but at least they make sense,” said Akko._

_The floor of the shop was drawn out in alternating blue and white tiles. There were a couple of round tables with two chairs at each of them, and a menu written in chalk on a blackboard above the glass counter. Inside the counter were cookies of all shapes and sizes— classic ones like chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin, and more unorthodox ones like apricot pistachio and bourbon spice. The sweet, sugary aroma wafted around the shop, and the warmth from the ovens killed any hint of winter chill that had crept its way inside._

_“What do you think you’re gonna get?” asked Akko, tugging at Diana’s sleeve._

_Diana pretended to stroke her invisible wizard-beard. The gesture made Akko giggle, which was her goal. She would do anything to make Akko happy, even if that meant being a little silly sometimes (she would_ never _do that for anyone who wasn’t Akko). “I think I’m partial to a gingersnap.”_

_“Oh, you are not having a boring old biscuit,” said Akko. “Not on my watch.”_

_“I like them,” said Diana._

_“They’re hard as rocks. They’ll make your teeth fall out,” said Akko. “And you know I like it when your kisses get all teethy.” She made smoochy faces at her._

_Diana evaded the smooches. “Public affection, Akko.”_

_“Waaah,” said Akko. “So strict. Well, I think I know what I want. I can order for the both of us. You sure you want a gingersnap?”_

_“I am very sure,” said Diana. “You’ll just have to deal with me getting dentures at seventeen._

_“Don’t worry,” said Akko. “I’ll still think you’re the hottest girl on the planet.” She moved up to the counter to order, leaving Diana a heaping gay mess behind her._

_“Do you want any drinks?” asked Akko, snapping her out of her gay thoughts._

_“An earl grey would be nice,” said Diana. She resumed her gay thoughts._

_“That’ll be two pounds,” said the cashier._

_Akko had begun to rummage around her pocket for some money, when Diana stepped ahead of her and (gracefully) slammed the coins onto the counter, which the cashier took._

_“Too slow,” said Diana._

_“Aw come on!”  whined Akko. “It was two pounds.”_

_“Still too slow,” said Diana._

_“You’re so stubboooorn.”_

_“I don’t know English suddenly.”_

_“Dianaaaaaaa.”_

_The cashier interrupted their flirting (or whatever it was they were doing to be honest) and handed Akko the two square paper bags that held the goods, and handed Diana her styrofoam cup of tea. They sat down together next to the window, because that was the best spot. Outside, the ground had been covered in a thick blanket of snow, and the rest of the plaza had been decorated with strings of Christmas lights and wreaths._

_“Are you gonna dunk your biscuit in your tea?” asked Akko, leaning over the table with interest._

_“A good dunking biscuit, a gingersnap does not make,” said Diana, making her voice all hoity-toity. “It is to be enjoyed by its lonesome.”_

_“Noted, noted,” said Akko, soaking in the Britishisms. “I’m learning.”_

_“You are a knowledge sponge,” said Diana. “And what did the lady get?”_

_“A snickerdoodle!” said Akko._

_Diana blinked. “Come again?”_

_“A snickerdoodle.” She pulled the offending creature out of its bag. It was big and cakey, and covered in cinnamon and sugar cubes. She took a bite and hummed. “It’s soooo good. You have to try it.”_

_“I’m not eating anything with a nefarious name like that.”_

_“Come ooooon.” She waggled the cookie in front of Diana’s face._

_“I refuse.”_

_“Pleaaaase,” said Akko. “You’ll love it, I promise.”_

_“No.”_

_“You’re my girlfriend, you have to do what I want.”_

_“I don’t think that’s how that works.”_

_“Say ‘aaaah.’”_

_“No—”_

_The mouth-shape of the word ‘no’ proved to be a suitable eating receptacle however, as Akko shoved the cookie between Diana’s lips, effectively shutting her up. She had no choice but to sink her teeth into it, crisp on the outside, and wonderfully fluffy on the inside. She bit the chunk off and chewed, the cinnamon-sugary bits melting on her tongue._

_“Oh,” said Diana. “That’s heavenly.”_

_“Still think you want that biscuit?” said Akko, wagging her eyebrow._

_“Shut up,” said Diana._

_Akko smiled a lip-biting smile, dimples dipping into her cheeks. “You know, I always thought dates had to be like… fancy-shmancy things where you had to wear silk dresses and eat at Michelin star restaurants. But it’s just kinda like… hanging out. And I think I might like that a lot better.”_

_Diana brushed the crumbs off the corner of Akko’s mouth and grinned. “I think I do too.”_

_After that, the two went back to school and snuggled under a blanket in front of the glowing warmth of the sorcerer’s stone._

—————

“This is the worst,” said Akko with a frown. “It’s always the good places.” Her bout of sadness was interrupted by an audible growl from her tummy, which made her blush.

“Well, we can’t bring the colonel back,” said Diana. “But we can fix an empty stomach.”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” said Akko. “We missed lunch.”

“I know just the place,” said Diana.

She took them out of the plaza towards the market, but instead of going through the numerous tents that stretched into the horizon, she brought them to a place that was essentially a kitchen hatch carved into a wall, with a few bar stools for seating in front of the hatch and little else. Diana knew exactly what was worth ordering— it was her usual takeout place for lunch when she used to work at the local hospital.

“A hot chocolate and a bagel with cream cheese,” said Diana to the vendor, filing through her wallet for the necessary funds. “And a coffee, please. Black.”

“Oooh,” said Akko. “What do you think I should get?”

“I’ve already ordered for you,” said Diana.

“Huh?” said Akko, huddling under the awning, closer to Diana. “Whoa whoa whoa. I’m paying for this.”

“I’m treating you,” said Diana, the transaction already complete. “Which means you aren’t.”

“Come on, let me at least pay you back?” said Akko, pouting.

“I don’t think so,” said Diana.

“Alright, I’ll buy you something then,” said Akko.

“No, you will not,” she said.

"Yes I will."

"Akko."

"I'll force feed you."

" _Akko_ ," she repeated, a tad too stern. 

“Oh,” said Akko, deflating like a balloon. “Okay, okay. You win.”

Diana’s expression softened. She didn’t mean it like that. She just had trouble regulating her feelings ever since _that_ happened and didn’t know how she came across. They always used to squabble and bicker over little things. Over who paid the bill (Diana; she was not a force to be reckoned with when it came to the bill) or who forgot to fold the laundry (Akko), amongst other things. And that was the extent of their fights. Until the breakup, anyway. Now Diana felt like she had the emotional range and capacity of a peanut.

Akko resorted to taking out her smartphone and tapping away at the keyboard. Great, so a little rectangle made better company than Diana herself. The _Doraemon_ charm hanging from the headphone jack swung back and forth like a pendulum, taunting her. What should she say to get her attention again? What could she do to—

“ _Look_ _out!”_

Akko and Diana turned to the source of the commotion, and were met with the sight of a very much still-dead Mr. Holbrooke chasing after a litter of puppies, which were scuttering straight towards them, leashes dragging across the ground. Mr. Holbrooke’s entire right arm was missing, and Diana soon realized the puppies had his bones in their mouths.

“Whoa, slow down little guys!” said Akko, crouching, scooping two of the puppies into her arms.

Diana had done the same, and the puppies dropped the bones, clambering all over her lap. They were squirmy and bean-shaped and wiggled around a whole bunch. She cooed at them, tickling their tummies, and they flicked their little tongues out to nip at her fingers. There were only two things that melted Diana’s cold exterior, and they were Akko and small innocent animals, in that order.

“Oh, thank Gods you two were here!” said Mr. Holbrooke. “They keep jumping my bones! Literally! And then running off with them!”

“I thought you went back to the afterlife,” said Akko, scratching a puppy under its ear.

“I did, until these little rascals dug up my grave!” he said, picking up the pieces of his arm and then popping them back into place. “Now I’m puppy sitting.”

The pups that had latched themselves onto Akko were now trying to lick her chin, and she bubbled into laughter. Diana looked at her, smiling, trying her best to contain both her sudden rush of affection and the wriggly little things in her lap, and Akko looked back at her, radiant. Just then, Mr. Holbrooke had pushed a bone back in too hard, and his arm burst into pieces again. The puppies clambered to pick them up, startling Akko into looking away, and then scurried off into the other direction.

“Come back here!” Mr. Holbrooke shouted after them, and then he was gone.

“Blytonbury’s just as lively as I remember it,” said Diana, patting away the dust on her jeans.

“You can say that again,” said Akko, following suit.

The vendor, just as amused at the chaos that had just ensued, offered them soap and a water basin to wash their hands in, and then returned with a fresh bagel wrapped in paper and the hot drinks.

“You used to come all the way here just for a bagel,” said Akko as they settled into the barstools. “Crazy. And black coffee? Double crazy.”

Diana rolled her eyes. “You’ll see what I mean when you—”

“Oh,” said Akko, around a mouthful of bagel. She chewed, eyes bulging, and hummed. “That’s good. Like, wicked good. Who knew bread could be so good?”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” said Diana. She sipped her coffee, the bitterness washing over her tongue. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” said Akko, concern painting her features. “You didn’t get anything for herself.”

“I’m alright,” she said, and was betrayed by the grumble of her own stomach. She blushed.

“Okay, well, your belly says otherwise,” said Akko. She plucked the other half of the bagel up and offered it to Diana.

“I bought that for you, not me,” she said.

“Yeah, so now that it’s mine,” said Akko, “I am in legal ownership of it. And as its legal owner, I’ve decided to share it.”

“Fine,” said Diana, unable to resist Akko’s charm and knack for mental gymnastics. “If it makes you happy.”

They settled into silence, having run out of things to say, and quietly munched on their bagel halves. It was domestic, in a way. But no matter how domestic it was, there was that invasive, gnawing thought at the front of Diana’s mind: that always-there distance. The fact that Akko might have moved on, the fact that Akko might have found someone new. She remembered the raw, unhinged anger. The words that they exchanged, stinging, like a coarse whip. Diana hated nothing more than the fleetingness of the joy they had just experienced, and the permanence of the pain her idiocy had caused the both of them.

Akko was unusually quiet as well. Whether or not she was thinking about the same things, Diana didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She could pretend things were okay, even if they weren’t.

They didn’t say anything for the rest of the meal.

—————

They spent the rest of the evening with the more glaring problem at hand— the whereabouts of the lantern, if you were the half glass-full type, or whether or not it even existed, if you were the class half-empty type. It was too cryptic of a lead, in Diana’s perspective. They spent hours asking historians, visiting magic stores, and searching through pawn shops, all with the anxiety of the fact that if they couldn’t find the lantern, they couldn’t save Ursula.

Diana pressed her fingers into her temples, pushing out the pain. “We’ve gone nowhere,” she said, the streetlamp above her like a spotlight. “We can continue our search in Bath where it was last seen, but that was an ungodly long time ago, and if we don’t find it there, then…”

“Hey, cheer up,” said Akko, though while she normally would have pulled Diana into a hug or cupped her face in her palms, she had shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “There’s always tomorrow.”

Diana sighed. Tomorrow, tomorrow. That’s what they all said (at this point, mopey-Diana had, unfortunately, resurfaced). She would go to bed, face a new day, suffer through the burdens of her own actions, and then go to bed again, only to repeat this until she fell over and died. It was sad.

Wait.

A new day?

“Akko, where are staying tonight?” she asked with urgency.

“Oh, I’m crashing at Sucy’s place,” said Akko, kicking a few pebbles into the empty street. “Er, specifically, her living room floor.”

“Sucy?” said Diana. “Sucy who tried to grow mushrooms in your ears while you were asleep? Sucy who lives in a six-person household with three single-person beds?”

“Yeah that one,” said Akko. “And actually it’s seven because her mom is visiting.”

Diana frowned. “Akko, I can’t allow that.”

Akko giggled. “You sound like Albert.”

“Yes, well, after a while all of us snobbish people start sounding the same,” she said. “Akko, you cannot risk getting _poisoned_ by your sociopath of a friend.”

“But we already made arrangements.”

“Then we’ll change those arrangements,” said Diana, who in this moment could also be named Ms. Bossypants. She stepped closer to Akko. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

“Oh,” said Akko, blushing from her ears, and then her entire face.

“I'm- I'm not propositioning you," she clarified, though she would have been fine if Akko agreed with that sentiment. She retreated, losing confidence. “We can provide a room for you at the manor, i-is what I mean.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother your aunt Daryl,” she said, twiddling her index fingers.

“Daryl’s too busy watching rubbish like _The Bachelor_ to care who I have over,” said Diana. That was a lie; Daryl was nosy and very much _did_ care who Diana had over, mostly because she was slightly too invested in Diana’s sex life (or lack thereof, as of the past year), especially because Maril and Merrill were both enjoying the married life and were probably expecting to pop out some infants soon, and both Diana and Daryl agreed that they wanted nothing to do with snotty, screamy little babies (Daryl did not look forward to grandmother-hood, if that were any indication). But Diana would _not_ let Akko get herself into danger. “Please, I insist.”

“Alright,” said Akko, bouncing a little. “But we have to pay Sucy and her family a visit. I can’t leave them hanging.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” said Diana. “I’ll wait here and—”

“You should come with me,” said Akko. “It’s been years, you two need to catch up.”

Diana remembered the last conversation she had ever had with Sucy. For the first time since meeting her, Sucy had blown her potion up in her own face instead of Akko’s, and Diana felt so smug about the karma that had literally blown up in her face that she could nearly taste it.

_“I’ll have you in my thoughts and prayers,” said Diana._

_“Like hell you will,” said Sucy, face dripping with a green, foam-like substance. “You trick-ass bitch.”_

_“I cannot argue with that,” said Diana._

And that was it.

“Come on, pretty please,” said Akko, batting her eyelashes all pretty-like. “It’ll be like old times.”

Diana felt something tug at her heart that felt vaguely like _asldkfjkzxmksdf_ and succumbed to it. “Alright,” said Diana. “But if she so much as lays a finger on you, we’re leaving.”

“You worry too much,” said Akko, and they were on their way.

——————

They arrived at the front door of Sucy’s flat a few minutes later, when the moon had already swapped places with the sun. Mrs. Manbaravan had sent her other four daughters to England to live with Sucy, as well as her nephew Marito, but the size of their home didn't exactly reflect this. It was a small apartment on the fourth floor of a narrow, grey brick building downtown. There was muck seeping from between the stone slabs, but otherwise the place looked plain and unassuming. They pretended they did not see the giant rat outside with the Slim Jim in its mouth.

Sucy buzzed them in and they made their way up in the lift (Diana’s hands were shaking a little at the thought of it falling, but that was a secret). Akko knocked on room 444 and they heard the muffled clanging of pots and pans and children squeaking incoherently. Mrs. Manbaravan answered the door. She was long with equally long hair, wore a gothic lolita dress that only covered about half of what Diana was certain were D-cup breasts, and was smoking something on a hookah.

“You must be the lesbians,” said Mrs. Manbaravan, and spoke again before they could argue.  “Please come in. Sucy is tending to her nightshades.”

They ushered themselves in and were greeted by Marito and the sisters, who then resumed chasing him around with a knife. The inside of the apartment was surprisingly clean and modern, and if Diana didn’t know it was Sucy of all people who lived here, she wouldn’t have thought anything was amiss.

“It’s nice to see you, Sucy’s mom,” said Akko. “I like your breasts. I mean dress. There’s been a teeny weeny change of plans. I’ll be staying at Diana’s instead, but we wanted to come visit anyway.”

“Ah, excellent,” said Mrs. Manbaravan, her voice smooth and sultry. “No troubles on our end. I can show you around while you wait for her, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great!” said Akko.

Diana trailed behind them like the third wheel that she was, enjoying the abundance of minimalist decor and white squares, and then asked to be excused to the balcony to get her bearings and some fresh air. When she pried the sliding door open, she was met with not only a gust of wind, but Sucy herself. She was wearing a collared dress that went past her bum, and was stroking a leaf of nightshade, as if petting it. Her skin was darker now, and she had cut her hair into a bob, although she still obscured her left eye with it. 

“The snooty rich white girl is among us,” said Sucy. She picked up a syringe and started injecting the soil with its neon pink contents. “I don’t remember inviting you over.”

“Good evening to you too,” said Diana.

Sucy shot up the rest of the plants and then threw the empty syringes into a bucket. She carried it back into the apartment wordlessly, leaving Diana out in the dark of night alone. Below her was a quaint cityscape dotted with pinpricks of light, and a decent view of the sealing stones.

After recollecting herself, Diana went back inside with a straight back and squared shoulders and watched Akko mingle with the Manbavarans from a distance. They spoke mostly about what Sucy had been up to, which was working in esteemed magic laboratories all over the world, and going on expeditions to discover new species of  flora and fungi. Sucy herself just observed them, expressionless, and then seized Diana’s arm when Akko was yanked away to play with the little sisters, pulling her aside to the kitchen.

“Something smells,” droned Sucy.

A pot bubbled behind them, the lid teeter-tottering.

“Supper?” deadpanned Diana.

“You’re emotionally repressed again,” said Sucy. Despite the sleepiness in her expression, her judgement was as astute as ever. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Playing dumb doesn't look good on you, Diana. Normally you’d be smiling dopily at whatever Akko says and wrapping a hand around her waist because you’re gross like that. And normally she’d be pawing at you like a stupid little love-struck kitten. But you’ve been standing apart from each other like you’re each other's poison, and I mean the bad kind. You did something.”

“That’s a rather unfair assessment—”

“Did you, or did you not do something to her?”

Ah. She’d read her like an open book. “A lot has happened since we last met,” said Diana.

“Look. You may think I don’t value her, but I do,” said Sucy, and it was her vitriol that was poison. “So if you hurt her, mark my words I will fuck you up.”

Diana clenched her teeth together. She knew she hurt Akko. She already _knew_ that. And the guilt had been eating away at her heart for an entire _year_ and all she wanted was to show her she was sorry and that she loved her, but it was hard when Diana didn’t even forgive _herself_.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” said Akko, blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. “Dinner smells good. Are you ready to go, Diana?”

Sucy yawned. Mrs. Manbavaran said something about packing some dinner for them to take home and the tension subsided.

“I am,” said Diana, parting her jaw. She was the first one out the door.

—————

A short leyline ride later, the signature mopey-Diana thoughts festering in Diana's mind, they took a small walk over the foothills and then ended up at the front gates of the Cavendish manor.

It had been a long time since she’d had anyone over. And then the realization hit her.

She was going to be sleeping under the same roof as the woman she was still in love with.

“Looks cozy?” said Akko, as if each and every corner of the manor  _didn't_ serve as a reminder of their time together. 

Diana gulped.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: ahh, i was hoping to get the new chapter up by january the 27th, but im honestly just so freaking busy with school that i might not be able to get an update out until reading week. i really really really wanna write this fic but im too stressed out about midterms and assignments that i cant.. UGHHHHH i'll try my absolute best to find time >___< please take care and dont worry, i'm deadset on completing this bad boy!!


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